it tingles, write your kiss across my skin
by dharkephoenyx
Summary: 'When he clutches her closer to him, her fingers scraping against him, she breathes them into his skin and as they fall over together, she sighs because it doesn't feel wrong, but it feels too soon and it scares her.' AU Finchel, love at first sight?  Rating changed to be on the safe side.


**A/N: Another author here told me that ideas from dreams are the best. So here's another dream. Un-beta'd and its Finchel at first sight. I'm a borderline romantic and I firmly believe Jamaica is a place where every single one of your dreams can come true, after all, there's magic in the sunset and definitely happiness in the water.**

**Disclaimer: Glee, not mine. Jamaica, born and bred. But I'm more than willing to share my country with Finchel ;-)**

* * *

><p><em>it tingles, write your kiss across my skin<em>

:::

_i._

She first sees him at dinner that night in the hotel restaurant, sitting with a table full of people. His laugh is rich and loud and Santana has to poke her several times to get her attention.

"Berry! _What_ are you looking at?" Santana turns to look behind her to see what has her distracted.

"Maybe _who _is more like it," Mercedes snickers. She ducks her head, hiding her blush behind her glass of water. Tina laughs loudly at her embarrassment and she turns around and flips them off.

"I'm enjoying the view. I'm on vacation, I thought we were supposed to."

"No, you're enjoying looking at Mr. Tall, Broad and Handsome. I don't blame you, I'd tap that," Santana murmurs.

Everyone at the table laughs because that's just like Santana. She doesn't like men, hasn't liked men since high school, but it's a running joke among them, if Santana says the man is 'beddable', then she approves of one of her friends dating him.

"Yep. I'd like me some white chocolate."

"Hey, hey. Eyes at front missy. Or I'm telling Sam and Mike," She berates her friends.

"Tell them what now missy?" Mercedes challenges.

"Oh you know I can spin a rather interesting story Mercy, I'll have Sam believe some dashing young man stole you away for the night and had his devious way with you. And Tina, don't make me get started on your masseur fantasy."

Both women gasp in horror as Santana laughs. "See, when you've known someone for that long, they have all this ammo to destroy you with."

She smirks, hopefully they'd leave her alone then.

"But what makes you think one of us won't go over and tell Mr. Handsome that you're over here drooling at him?" Tina raises an eyebrow.

She wipes at her mouth looking quickly over at him and back to her friends. "I'm doing no such thing!"

"No, but I'm pretty sure we can get him to believe us," Mercedes grins.

"I hate you both." She glares, digging into her eggplant parmesan and ignoring the three women laughing at her expense.

She chances another look towards his table and he has his arms around an older woman, as she laughs against him. She briefly wonders how his arms would feel around her.

It's as if he knows there's a table of women staring at him. His head swivels around and catches her gaze before she can look away.

She stares at him. He stares at her and everything stops. Her feet are telling her to get up and go to him and he just looks at her, finally breaking the gaze as someone snaps their finger in front of her eyes and she jumps.

"At first sight, huh?" Tina snickers and she blushes, her face getting redder at their laughter. She doesn't dare look at again because she has the sneaking suspicion on the back of her mind that Tina may be right.

* * *

><p><em>ii.<em>

"I'm Finn."

"Rachel."

His smile is wide as he shakes her hand, small in his grasp. Up close she can see his eyes, a warm amber sparkling down at her. His hair is messy, still wet from his swim and as he smiles at her, the freckles on his nose crinkle adorably. Her palm tingles at his touch.

"So, Rachel. What brings you to this beautiful island?" Even his voice is beautiful.

"Vacation. With some friends." She lifts her sunglasses and points to the three women still lounging on the chairs.

"Awesome." He turns back to her.

"And you?"

"Wedding."

She tries to not to let her disappointment show. Figures. He must have read it in her eyes because he hurries to explain. "My brother, Kurt! He, ah, gets married in a couple of days."

She nods, embarrassed at her reaction.

"That's nice." He nods behind her where two men are sitting by the pool, a raven haired man laughing loudly as the man beside him lathers sunblock onto his shoulders, chastising him quietly.

"The prima donna is Kurt, Blaine's the doofus yakking it up." She turns back to him.

"Berry!" Santana scowls from her chair.

"That'd be Santana, Mercedes is our resident diva and Tina is the one currently doing handstands." She laughs at her friends, who'd gotten up and moved towards the pool, Tina walking on her hands.

"I'd better go. I just came for drinks." She motions to the tray the bartender pushes towards her.

"May I?" He asks. She nods and he skilfully balances the tray on one hand and guides her through the pool crowd, his hand on her lower back as they move towards her friends.

"You're pretty good at that."

He chuckles. "Yeah. I was a bartender my last two years of college."

"Nice. Bet you were a hit with the ladies, huh?" She winks.

He laughs easily. "I was very clumsy at first, I got better over time."

They stop beside Mercedes as Tina pushes Santana into the pool.

"Ladies." His smile is disarming as they take their drinks and Tina and Mercedes slip into the water, winking at her as they do.

"Where'd you go to college then?" She sits on the abandoned beach chair, gesturing for him to do the same.

"Ohio State. One drum-playing, Health and Exercise Science quarterback at your service." He flourishes with a wave.

She laughs. "Health and Exercise Science?"

"Sports medicine basically. I minored in music," he says sheepishly.

"That's cool. Me too! Well, I studied music theory."

"Really?" He's actually interested in that little fact. "Here I was thinking maybe you were some lawyer or CEO." He grins at her.

She laughs, because really? She hates the 9-5. She sold movie tickets in high school and waited tables through college so she could spend all her money on records and LPs and sheet music for just about every genre of music that exists.

She tells him this and he smiles.

"Favourite instrument?"

"Piano," she replies, raising an eyebrow.

"Drums. Best drummer of all time?"

"John Bonham."

He nods approvingly. "Led Zeppelin, nice. Favourite band?"

She ducks her head and smiles as she answers. "It's this new rock/indie band from California, Bonnie Dune."

He nods, "I've heard them. The drummer is awesome." He winks at her. "Favourite artiste?"

She blushes before she answers. "Barbra Streisand. I'm a sucker for Broadway. Wanted to perform there when I was younger. I may still do so one day."

"_Funny Girl_ fan, huh?" He chuckles. "I'd like to see you on stage. I'm rooting for a revival just to see you play Fanny Brice. "

Her eyes widen at that. He knows Led Zeppelin and Barbra Streisand. Nice. This is good. She really hopes he's not gay too.

"Finn!"

They both turn around to see his brother waving at him from the other side of the pool. He waves back and turns to her, dropping his shoulder. "Can I see you later?"

She looks up at him, his eyes warm and pleading, and that errant thought comes back to her again. She grins, "Only if you can tell me which rock musical received eleven Tony awards on Broadway." She winks and gets up, pulling off her cover-up and diving into the water beside Santana.

As she surfaces, he walks away, turning back to look at her, his lop-sided smile still bright.

* * *

><p><em>iii.<em>

He waltzes over to their table at dinner that night, greets her friends politely and turns to her with that blinding smile. Mercedes and Tina pretend to swoon behind his back and her traitorous blush reappears. She covers her cheeks as she smiles good night. Santana snickers from beside her.

She hates her friends.

"So, Kurt, Blaine and I were planning on going to the nightclub tonight. We'd love if you ladies could join us."

"Of course!" Tina and Mercedes answer before she even opens her mouth. She knows what they're doing, really, can they be even more obvious? But then Finn is giving her that lop-sided grin again and she nods. It's _just_ dancing right?

"Sure. Mercedes and Tina take forever to get ready, so, is 9pm alright?"

He nods. "I'll pick you up then."

They don't stay long in the club. Finn is a terrible dancer and they can't really talk, not that she wants to talk really, and the throbbing beat mixing with Finn's hard body against hers is almost too much to take.

Santana is chatting up a blonde at the bar, and Mercedes and Tina are giggling happily in a booth together. She won't leave them if they're drunk, but Santana catches her eye, nods over at their friends and winks.

She threads her fingers though his and tugs him outside, grateful for the cool night air soothing her flushed cheeks.

"I'm happy to see you tonight," she says, leaning against the wall. He copies her pose, facing her and brushes her hair from her forehead. She closes her eyes at the familiar tingles.

His fingers move to cup her cheek and he rubs his thumb over her lips. Her eyes are wide as she opens them and stares at him.

"I really want to kiss you."

"I definitely want to kiss you," he replies, bending to touch his lips softly to hers. She gasps and clutches him closer, moulding her body to his, pulling away from his kiss as she tries to catch her breath.

"I don't know what the hell is going on in my head but I cannot get you out of my mind." He rests his forehead against hers. "I don't think this is love at first sight, because every time I see you I think I fall in love with you a little more," he says cheekily. "Wait, _do_ you believe in love at first sight?"

"Must be something in the water," she murmurs, her lips brushing his as she speaks. He chuckles, squeezing her waist as he sucks her bottom lip between his, teasing it with his tongue.

They're basically outside the wall of the nightclub in the darkness of the palm trees and anyone can come by and see them. She doesn't want to let go of him right now though, nor does she want tonight to end.

"My room?" Maybe he can read her mind. Because she's rooming with her friends and that means no privacy. She nods, her fingers playing with the hair at his neck and the next thing she registers is that she's pressed against his room door as he awkwardly leans out to hang the 'Do Not Disturb' sign on the handle, shutting it quickly.

His hands are on her body again, touching everywhere and she pushes him backwards, tugging his shirt off, fingers pulling at her dress and they fall onto the bed. Lips hot and kisses sweet, hands searching, bodies pressed close and as he covers himself, he buries his hands in her hair, bringing their lips together as her pushes into her.

He swallows her moan and she grips onto him; the pain is delicious, all of him stretching her, and her body tingles as his covers hers. This feels so right and so_ so_ good and as he pushes her over he whispers the words to her. When he clutches her closer to him, her fingers scraping against him she breathes them into his skin and as they fall over together, she sighs because it doesn't feel wrong, but it feels too soon and it scares her.

She slips away in the early hours of the morning when there are actually birds singing outside his window. He looks peaceful, happy and relaxed as he sleeps, long lashes dusting over the freckles across his nose and his cheeks and she sighs, kissing him softly as she escapes back to her own reality.

It's too soon.

* * *

><p><em>iv.<em>

Kissing him doesn't feel wrong or new even. It's exciting, yes. But it also feels real, like everyone else she's ever kissed was just practice and now she has this chance it's like the culmination of every kiss, every touch, every intimate moment she's had before. It's explosive but safe, intense but relaxed, easy, comfortable.

Real.

She pulls away from his arms, still surprised by her body's reaction to him. They're standing on the cliffs, the sea crashing below them, the moon high in the sky. It's late and the longer she stays out here with him, the less she can trust herself.

"Rachel?"

She touches her lips, hot and swollen under her fingers and she meets his eyes, even more turned on by his hooded gaze.

"That's, ah, wow."

"You can say that again." He smiles at her, reaching out to touch her again.

She steps away, heart clenching at the hurt look on his face.

"Wait, no." She closes her eyes, trying to reach the correct words she should say. "It's too much, too soon. This can't be real."

"Rachel, this, whatever this is between us, I want it. I want more of you."

"Finn! You don't know me. You literally only saw me three days ago for the first time! This, this, that, you, I can't be falling in love with you after three days."

"Maybe it's something in the water." He repeats her words from the night before. She glares at him.

"Rach, what do you feel? Trust that. Please." He's almost begging her now. He steps closer to her, sparks jolting up her arm as his fingers graze her skin.

"Whoa." Her whole body shudders with some indescribable warmth and she drops her hands quickly, shaking her head in denial and walking back briskly towards the hotel, towards her room and some clarity. And she vows to avoid drinking anything too.

* * *

><p><em>v.<em>

The minute she sees him sitting on the cliff, she knows. This is a bad idea.

As if he senses her behind him, he looks around then scrambles to his feet and hurries towards her. "You came."

She nods, her fingers clasped in front of her. He takes her small hands into his, sparks running along her skin at the touch, his eyes flies to her face, questioning. Will it always be like this?

"Walk with me," she says, her feet moving along the stones to the beach below. The sun overhead is bidding goodbye to the day, the sky painted in purples and oranges, the air cooled by the sea below. He holds her hand carefully as their toes sink into the sand.

He's right here, his smell invading her nostrils, his touch burning into her skin and she remembers the taste of his kiss. She peeks up at him from the corner of her eyes and he's doing the same, a half-smile on his lips. She stops and turns to him, stepping closer. His eyes are dark, lips full as he stares at her own and his chest is rising fast as he breathes, nervous as he stands before her.

She tugs her hand from his, reaching up to touch the three marks on his jaw, his eyes closing at her touch. She smiles and steps closer still, reaching up to press her lips against his.

He moans, his hands wrapping around her waist and she clutches at his shirt, her knees suddenly going weak when he rubs his tongue over her closed lips, she sighs and as his tongue sweeps between them she throws caution to the wind, pushing him backwards. He lowers them to the sand, one hand squeezing her hip, the other buried in her hair.

His kisses move to her neck, nibbling and sucking at her skin.

"Beautiful," he whispers and nips at the skin by her neck.

"Please, Finn…" Her voice is quiet, barely a whisper, but he hears her, pulling back to see her face, eyes now glittering in the moonlight.

"Are you sure, Rach?"

She loves that he calls her that. He's only known her for a few days and already he's given her a nickname. She tugs at his shirt, feeling guilty at the red marks she'd put there the last time.

"Yes," she breathes. He kisses away her guilt, his tongue, lips and fingers crafting an entirely new emotion.

* * *

><p><em>vi.<em>

She kisses him under the pagoda.

Everyone else had gone for a spa day, but she declines, her feet moving quickly through the puddles as she dashes through the rain, fingers crossed that he's there waiting. He's there, leaning against the wicker fence looking out at the raindrops falling onto the leaves. He turns when he hears her, pulling her into his arms and kissing the rain from her lips.

"Hi," he breathes.

She blushes.

He leans his hips against the railing, one hand on her bare hip, the other brushing her wet hair from her forehead.

"Spring Awakening."

She looks at him, confused.

"You asked me what musical on Broadway got eleven Tony awards, what rock musical?" He reminds her.

She remembers the conversation from that day at the pool and she smiles. He's too much, he's adorable and this is going to be a lot harder now.

"I'm leaving tomorrow," she whispers, not looking up at him. This vacation romance, this fairytale she's been living in, it all ends in less than 24 hours, because the real world beckons.

Finn stares sadly at her as his fingers burn circles over her skin. She chances a look up at him, to see his brow creased, hesitant as he thinks.

"Stay for the wedding?" He whispers.

"What?"

"Stay. For the wedding. I'll change your ticket. You can go back with me."

She searches his eyes and he's completely serious.

She's tempted.

"That sounds fantastic, in theory Finn." She bites her lip and sighs. "I have to go back to work. In New York. Besides, we live in separate parts of the country and I have no plans to LA anytime soon."

She sighs, pulling away from him, stretching her fingers out to catch the rain, the coolness calming even though her heart is beating _too fast_ and she briefly wonders what would happen if she just said _yes._

* * *

><p><em>vii.<em>

She's been back home and in the office for almost five weeks now. Everyone comments on how gorgeous she looks after vacation and that her compositions and songs are outstanding. Mercedes snickers that just maybe she brought back just a little more than inspiration from Jamaica.

"Rachel!" Tina comes running into her office, sliding to a stop against her desk. "You have to come with me, now!"

"What? Is something wrong?" She jumps up, letting Tina pull her down the hallway, up the stairs and into the lobby outside Will's office. Puck jumps out of their way as they pass, almost crashing his guitar against the wall.

She can see Mercedes and Santana sitting on one side, Will, Artie and Mike on the other, and a tall, broad-shouldered man with messy hair sitting beside Mike.

He looks up and she tugs Tina down just before he sees her so they're crouching below the _Shuester Recordings _block letters painted above their heads on the glass wall.

"That's Finn," she whispers. Tina nods, grinning.

"What is he doing here?"

"Mike." Tina's grin is wider if possible. "They went to OSU together. Did you know he studied kinesiology before he was a drummer?"

She nods absently. Truth be told, they spent most of their five days doing everything but talking. Tina smiles knowingly and pulls her back the way they came.

"Apparently one Finn Hudson has been living in New York for the past two weeks. And after Matt decided to go on tour with She-Who-Should-Not-Be-Named, we needed a new in-studio drummer. Mike recommended him. He had a jam session with Artie and Will earlier, they're just settling his contract."

She blinks as Tina finishes speaking, her bottom lip between her teeth.

"What? I thought this was a good thing? You've been talking nonstop about him since we got back."

"Tina, it was a fantasy, a vacation fling!" She wails, dropping her head onto her hands.

"Rachel, relax. What are you worried about?"

"I didn't think he liked me like that. I mean, to move to another state for a woman he met on vacation?" She looks up at her best friend. "What if he realizes that I'm crazy?"

Tina laughs lightly. "Honey, I'm pretty sure he likes you _because _you're crazy. He took one look at you and probably fell in love with you right then and there. Maybe it was something in the water," she muses.

She stares at her best friend. They've been friends since middle school and Tina has always been honest and straightforward with her, moreso than Santana.

Tina pats her hand and got up, walking to the door. "Stop thinking about it, Rachel. Just do it."

* * *

><p><em>viii.<em>

She chickens out when Will calls a staff meeting on Monday, asking Tina to tell them she had a family emergency.

Tuesday she works from home, not yet ready to face him. Artie calls her about midday, telling her to log onto her computer so he can download the score they were working on and pull the tracks she has from hers.

Wednesday is pretty much the same thing. Mercedes calls her with an update from the meeting, Santana calls her a chicken, Mike calls her with two new contracts they'd requested her for and Will reminds her she can't miss the studio session for Friday.

Thursday is pretty much the same except Tina comes over at 8pm with dinner and a scowl, bringing the changes to the sheet music Will and Artie made.

Friday morning, she's in her office before the building is even open. She's worked on the composition and it's even better than she imagined. It's the opening score for a movie Will had been excited to grab and she sits at the baby grand in the corner of her office to run through it one last time.

She finishes playing and taps the sheet music, correcting one final error on a note. She stuffs them in a folder and gets up to head towards Will's office.

Turning around she freezes, her fingers going slack as she sees him leaning easily against her office door. His hair is shorter, groomed neatly and he's traded in his cargo pants and t-shirts for a navy blue button down with the sleeves rolled up and jeans.

He's smiling, one side of his mouth pulled up but it doesn't reach his eyes.

"You're good." He nods towards her piano, striding into the room and kneeling to pick up the scattered papers at her feet. He stands up and even though she's wearing the ridiculous pair of thigh high boots Santana bought her for her birthday she barely reaches his shoulder. Was he always this tall?

She doesn't reply, not trusting her voice enough to speak.

He walks past her, dropping the folder on her desk and sits on the edge, so they're on eye level now.

"Have you been avoiding me?" He tilts his head in question.

Her eyes widen because even though it's true, he really doesn't need to know that.

"I hope you don't think I'm stalking you because I'm working here now," he says steadily, his eyes watching hers.

She sighs, resigned. "No."

Why should she try and deny it? She holds her hand out, anticipating the tingle when his skin touches hers. His long fingers wrap around her palm, tugging her to him.

There it is.

He watches her face and she smiles at him, moving closer so she can taste his kiss again. He smiles against her lips, his hand wrapped around her waist. She says her apology in her kiss and he pulls her closer to him still, stroking her arms as he welcomes her home.

"Well, finally! I thought I'd have to drag you in by your damn ears and smack some sense into you. God only knows you've been chattering nonstop, 'Finn this, Finn that'. I thought I'd have to duct tape a taser to your behind so it'd shock some sanity into you every time you said his name. Thank the Lord, semi-sane Rachel is back…"

They pull away and turn to the doorway, identical smirks on their face as they listen to Mercedes' rant as she walks down the hallway. She looks back at him, biting her lip.

He raises an eyebrow, "Semi-sane Rachel?"

She buries her face into his chest as he laughs, dropping a kiss onto her hair.

* * *

><p><em>ix.<em>

It's always been easy kissing him. She could do it forever, she realizes. Just not right now.

He's sitting at the piano while she takes his larger hand in hers and points his fingers to the correct keys as she attempts to teach him C_hopsticks_. Every time he misses a note he presses his lips to her jaw and pretty soon, he's giving up entirely, twisting her around so he can bury his fingers in her hair and taste her lips.

"If you keep this up you're never going to learn the piano," she mumbles against his lips.

"I can't help it if you keep me distracting me." He moves his lips from hers to nibble at her neck. Her body shivers at the feel of him. They've been together so long she keeps waiting for the day when his touch doesn't make her entire body tingle.

She doesn't expect it anytime soon.

"You're not even trying Finn," she says, trying to be stern.

"Fine," he huffs, pushing her away from him and settling his fingers across the _F_ key. And plays the tune flawlessly.

Her mouth drops open as he plays and she turns to him. He looks at her sheepishly. "My mother taught me when I was four."

She balls her small hand into a fist and hits him on the shoulder.

"Ow! Babe, I'm sorry."

She hits him again and he jumps, grabbing her hand and holding it against him.

"I'm sorry," he murmurs then leans over and kisses her.

"You two are going to make me throw up. And I won't blame it on morning sickness this time."

"Go away Tina," Finn mutters, shooing her away with one hand, not moving his lips from hers.

"No," Tina walks over and swats his shoulder, "You. Go back to your own seat." She tugs him up.

"And you," she points at her, "go to your soundboard, Artie wants you. You can canoodle at your own pleasure somewhere besides my piano bench thank you very much. Both of you get lost."

She reluctantly gets up, moving away because hormonal Tina is not someone she wants to mess with, she doesn't understand how Mike is always grinning when she goes off... She steals another kiss before Finn walks back towards the drum kit, punching Puck on the shoulder as he passes by.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say Rachel is in love with our drummer, Mercedes," Artie says nonchalantly as he fiddles with his controls when she sits beside him outside the sound room.

"Gee, Artie. Whatever made you think that?" Her friend smirks.

"Have you seen the composition we're working on? Or that song Will sold to the studio for its soundtrack. Whoever wrote those are in love. Whoever thought love at first sight didn't exist? Songwriting gold, baby," Artie chuckles, dodging the pencil she throws at him.

Mercedes laughs, the sound happy and clear in the room and even Santana and Will grin over at her. She tugs her headphones over her ears and sits back in her seat, her eyes glued to the man at the drums playing.

He looks over at her and winks, drawing fresh laughter from her friends when her face gets hot.

She _really_ hates her friends.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: ahm, thoughts? Gimme.**


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